SIX

Provenza was not amused when Flynn returned from the deli across the street with fruit salad and a sandwich for Raydor and nothing for him. When he had finally huffed and puffed enough for Flynn to be desperate enough to ask him to elaborate, Provenza crossed his arms, talking as if Raydor wasn't even in the room: "What are you now, Flynn? Her personal slave? Should I vacate my chair, so you can use it to put her feet up or something?"

Sharon snorted and Provenza turned his head towards her slowly and menacingly. "Let's hear it, Raydor."

"Well, for one, I could use something to put my feet up after having spent an entire day watching your incompetence at work." She wasn't known for her diplomacy when it came to her adversaries, but that was blunt even for her. "But I would also really, really like to get this whole ordeal over with so I can retire to my apartment and enjoy the silence."

Provenza's eyes narrowed dangerously. He wasn't too pleased with the arrangement either, that much he had been making abundantly clear all day. Sharon stared back, her eyes shooting daggers, which was even more impressive in the absence of her glasses.

"If you were a little more pleasant, none of us would be here, but no!" He threw up his hands. "Captain Prim and Proper needs to alienate everyone she meets and now someone very understandably wants to put an end to the endless meddling."

Andy, very conscious to stay out of the line of fire, furtively glanced at Sharon. She had crossed her arms in front of her chest and was leaning back in her chair, not seeming rattled at all. Funny that was, when the same line coming from him had very much affected her earlier.

"How about you interrogate the last of my squad for tonight, so we can all go home and enjoy the fact that we are not in each other's company anymore?" she suggested monotonously.

"I saw a set of picture that suggested that you enjoy Flynn's company a lot more than mine," Provenza said smugly, before he got out of his chair to stalk down the hall and into the direction of the interrogation room. He and Flynn had been taking turns while one of them stayed with Sharon in the monitor room and while it was technically Andy's turn to conduct the interview, no one was inclined to object. Sharon actually smirked at Provenza's comment and popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. Flynn couldn't help but find the gesture incredibly sexy. Making use of the fact that they were alone and he could touch Sharon without causing Provenza to produce unnaturally loud gagging noises in response, he leaned over and lightly ran his hand down her side. To his surprise, she winced and actually looked pained.

Before Andy could wonder why that was, there was movement on the screen and Provenza ushered in Sergeant Martinez, the obliging little lapdog who had driven Sharon home from the scene of the accident much to Andy's chagrin. He was now kind of glad that he wasn't the one who had to deal with the little weasel, actually.

Martinez sat upright in his chair like a proper little student, bright and attentive. His white shirt was perfectly crisp despite the hour and his golden skin looked healthy even in the unflattering lights of the interrogation room. Martinez was young and fit and that made Andy hate him a little more than he already did.

Provenza went through the usual questions before he went in for the kill.

"So, why would anyone want to hurt Captain Raydor?" Flynn had to give it to him, despite his recent squabble with Sharon, Provenza was professional enough to not show his contempt for her.

"I am afraid that you're asking the wrong person here, Lieutenant," Martinez said genuinely. "I really don't get it. I mean, she is a damn good detective and the best boss most of us could imagine."

A look of pain fleetingly crossed Provenza's face, but he seemed able to bite back the scathing comment that was surely just under the surface.

"No one pining for her position?" he asked instead.

Martinez shook his head while he seemed to seriously consider the question. Sharon's people were all alert, professional and trying to help, but some of them still had let Flynn and Provenza know quite clearly what they thought of them. Martinez, however, seemed to perfectly respect the authority of the ranking officer and a look at Sharon confirmed that she was pleased with her youngest protege.

"I really don't think so. I mean, that would mean she would have to leave and make room for someone else. I honestly don't know anyone who would want to see her leave. And also, being head of FID is not exactly what people consider fun. I expect someone who is really after a career would put in a transfer to make it up the ladder." He gave Provenza a clipped, professional smile and turned his palms up. "Just my two cents of course, but it is what it is."

Andy caught Sharon's eye and could tell that all she wanted was for this to be over. There was no use in interviewing her people, he could see it now. They were all fiercely loyal, if not in awe of her. He got that, he had to admit, she was quite something. Even exhausted as she was, she was still a force to be reckoned with. He watched her slowly eat the rest of her fruit salad while the interview was winding down.

"Thank you for the food, Andy," she turned and gave him a small smile. "I'm feeling much better now."

Andy reached over, just touching her hand lightly this time and she didn't shy away. "It's late. We should get going soon. A good night's sleep will help both of us."

Traffic was flowing easily, so Flynn found it safe to chance a glance at the woman in the passenger seat every now and then. Her head was resting against the window, but her eyes were open, staring at but certainly not taking in the world outside. It was hard to reconcile her sudden vulnerability with the steely facade she had presented to Provenza earlier, but then he guessed she still had more sides he had never seen. He pulled up in front of her building, waving at the uniformed officer in the squad car who was now routinely stationed there. When the car came to a stop, she snapped out of her trance and sat up, hands fiddling with the strap of her handbag.

"Well," he said, inexplicably nervous all of a sudden. "I guess I'll pick you up in the morning then."

She turned her head and let him look at her - really look at her - for the first time since their encounter in the hallways. It was as if she had pulled a veil in front of her eyes in Provenza's presence and now that they were alone, she looked haunted, her posture tense.

"There is a reason I didn't invite you up those past few nights," she said softly and he cocked his head quizzically. He hadn't expected her to suddenly be truthful with him.

"Because of uniform here?" he pointed at the squad car parked just a few yards away.

"No." She shook her head. "I expect half the LAPD knows about us by now."

He couldn't help it: The use of "us" sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. She could have phrased it differently, but she hadn't. Maybe that meant something, maybe it didn't, but he did feel elated. There was something about the familiarity it implied that made his heart skip a beat.

"Then why?" he asked. "Did I do something?"

"No. It is because I didn't actually stay at my apartment." She had the same air of curious relief about her that Flynn often saw in suspects who finally confessed. Confession could feel cleansing, or so he was told.

"Okay," he said. "Please don't tell me you ditched your security detail and drove around on your own."

That made her smile, if only a little. "You know me, Andy. I would not do something like that. No, I have a friend in the building."

He tensed. Another man? One she had spent the night with? His throat suddenly felt dry. They had never promised each other exclusivity. He had just assumed that he was her focus as much as she was his. What if there had been another player in the game all along? His hands clenched around the steering wheel as he waited for her to elaborate.

"Her name is Stella. Her apartment faces the other way, so it doesn't look too similar to my own."

The strength of his relief was almost ridiculous and it made him feeling like an idiot. "Ever since those photos turned up, I don't feel safe at home," she confessed. "I can't stay there. It doesn't matter whether there is anyone else with me or not, it just makes my skin crawl to imagine that I might be watched again."

He reached over and took her hand between his. Her skin was cold and he could feel her trembling softly. There was so much under the surface that she never let anyone see. For someone like Andy, who wore each and every one of his emotions right there on his sleeve, how she did it was a mystery.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked. Sharon shrugged and looked away.

"I was embarrassed, I suppose."

Flynn sighed, a little bit endeared by the way she couldn't look at him. "We've known each other for a while now. I guess it's time you realized that there is really nothing to be embarrassed about in front of me.

She looked up with a soft look in her eyes and gave him a small but tender smile. They were both silent for a minute, the moment stretching between them, but not uncomfortably so. Her hand was still in his and it felt good to have that physical connection.

"How about we go up and get a few of your things, so you can stay at my place for a while?" He knew her pretty well by now and still he had no idea how she would react to the offer. The beat of silence that followed almost killed him. Then suddenly her relief was almost palpable and she nodded, still trying to hide just how much the gesture meant to her, but for Flynn, it was clearly there to see.

"Thank you." Her voice was thick with emotion. "But what I said to you today, about not being able to give you what you want…"

"Hey," he interrupted her and her annoyance at his doing so softened almost immediately when he continued: "There is no need to give me anything. Let me give you what you need right now, okay? I told you I'll keep you safe and I will make sure that you will feel safe as well. We can figure everything else out as we go along."

Up in her apartment, she went to her bathroom first and then into her bedroom to collect her things and he stood in the dark living room, hands in his pockets, looking out at the balcony. A clearly embarrassed Buzz had concluded that the pictures had probably been taken by a drone. His inquiry as to how the telltale noise could have escaped them had been shot down by a set of "please-don't-go-there"-looks from Chief Johnson and Provenza, because nobody needed to hear just how loud the soundtrack to match those pictures had been. Andy had been sweating bullets through it because it was bad enough that they had to involve Buzz, too, but having them discuss his sex life was too much even for him. He purposefully turned his back towards the windows and found himself staring at Sharon's perfectly tidy kitchen. Her mail was in a stack on the counter, unopened, and the orchid on the counter looked a little thirsty. Careful not to disturb Sharon's order, Andy filled the small watering can and helped the poor plant out. Realizing that he had gotten some soil on his cuff, he swore softly under his breath and wandered into the bathroom to clean it up. He swore again when he walked right into the small trash can she kept under her sink and toppled it over. He could have sworn that she usually kept it more to the right. Switching on the light, he bent down to sort out the mess and quickly return its contents to its original place.

He froze and his heart seemed to stop when he realized what he was staring at.

Sharon straightened from where she was folding clothes into a suitcase to look up at him through her hair. She had changed into leggings and a cashmere sweater and looked impossibly thin all of a sudden. He hadn't previously realized that she had lost this much weight over the whole ordeal. She froze when he held up the plastic object in his hand. He could tell that she was about to accuse him of going through her trash, but then she closed her mouth again and remained silent instead, smartly saving her strength for the actual battle.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

She brought her hand up to her face and rubbed her forehead, clearly exasperated.

"You know, it would be great if you could talk to me now at the very least." He hadn't meant to snap at her like that, but he couldn't help it either. His hand was trembling when he dropped the pregnancy test onto the bed. Sharon took a deep breath and straightened up, her cheeks stained pink. She was as nervous as he was and some small part of him was weirdly grateful for that.

"I didn't want to tell you before I had it confirmed," she finally said.

"Confirmed," he echoed. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the two lines look like enough confirmation to me."

She hugged herself now, suddenly vulnerable again. "It is not actually possible, Andy."

"What? Why? Forty-seven is not that old!" He really had to stop interrupting her.

She took another deep breath and he could tell that it was taking everything out of her to stay calm. But then, he could relate to that sentiment. His hands were trembling so badly that he crossed his arms in front of his chest, realizing too late how combative he looked. But it felt good to stand like this. More together than before, somehow.

"That is not what I meant," Sharon said. "It is just that after Ricky, I had a really bad miscarriage. My doctor told me that I couldn't get pregnant again."

"Oh," Andy said stupidly. "Okay."

She picked up the test and opened the drawer of her bedside table, dropping it inside. He understood that she very much wanted it out of her sight.

"Why did you take the test if you didn't believe it was possible in the first playe?" he asked, suddenly feeling weak. This rollercoaster of emotions was a little too much for him in the middle of the night, after a long and intense day.

She closed her eyes and turned away from him, continuing to fold clothes, but she didn't get the creases right and ended up making a bit of a mess.

"Because I'm late for the second time and these symptoms all feel very familiar." She gave a dry chuckle that didn't sound amused at all. "My thinking was actually that I would take the test to be able to stop worrying about it."

Andy looked towards her bedside table. "Guess that didn't work."

"No," she said bitterly. "That didn't work at all."

Now that the tension between them had dissolved a little, he was beginning to feel lightheaded and he could tell that she was coming apart as well. Sharon furtively wiped her cheek and, despite his previous irritation, his heart went out to her. His pride be damned, he closed the distance between them and took her in his arms. She hadn't expected it, because she tensed and gave a muffled whimper.

"Not so tight, please," she said and gave him a tearful smile when she noticed his confusion. "Everything hurts." She gestured towards her breasts and he suddenly realized what she meant, his face growing hot with embarrassment.

"Oh God, sorry." He approached her again and embraced her more carefully, feeling her melt into him.

"How long have you known?" he asked even though he had a pretty good idea. She had gone from seeming reasonably fine one night to completely off the hook the next morning after all.

"Just a few days," she whispered. "It could all be a fluke, though, Andy."

Maybe it was, but for whatever it was worth, holding her, he felt better than he had all day.

It seemed as if he hadn't slept more than a few minutes when he was roused by a noise coming from the bathroom. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and looked around himself, trying to gauge the time and the source of the noise. His alarm clock told him it was six in the morning, so they had slept for at least a few hours even if his aching, tired bones seemed to disagree. The noise, he realized, was coming from the bathroom and since Sharon was not next to him in bed anymore, he had a good idea who was causing it. Frowning, he realized that he was hearing the muffled sounds of someone throwing up. For a moment, he debated whether to go in or not, but before he could make a decision, the toilet flushed and water began to rush from the faucet. A moment later, Sharon came out, looking pale, eyes bloodshot. She tensed when she found him awake in the early morning sun coming in through the window next to the bed.

"You okay?" he asked her, reaching out his hand for her. She nodded, a little unsteady on her feet, and sat down on the side of the bed, taking deep breaths. He reached out and stroked her arm gently.

"Do you want to make an appointment with your doctor to find out what we're dealing with?" he asked softly, needing to have this confirmed or rebuked before he could allow his thoughts to continue down this road. She nodded, mechanically reaching for her phone.

"Sweetheart," he said and she winced at the term. "It is six in the morning. I don't think they'll answer the phone at this hour."

"Oh." She looked at him sheepishly. "You're right."

They remained in silence for a moment, while a thousand thoughts were whirling through Andy's head. The previous night, the momentum of his discovery in the bathroom had blocked every attempt at logical thinking, but now that it was early morning and he had slept, he suddenly realized the implications of it all. One thought struck him and he tensed, upbraiding himself at once for not thinking of it sooner.

"Do you think it would be safe for you to be pregnant again after what happened?"

She shrugged, shaking her head helplessly. "I don't know. The bleeding was-" sie cleared her throat, clearly affected by the memory. "The bleeding was pretty bad."

Sharon looked so lost that he felt the need to pull her into him. He felt her body relax against his and kissed her cheek from behind her, amazed despite himself that she didn't shy away.

"This must have been a tough secret to keep in the middle of this mess," he said. "You could have told me, you know. I would have been there for you."

She didn't give him an answer to that, but he felt her relax even more, her hand now stroking his arm.

They lay in silence again and Andy was desperate to ask the one question that seemed most important, but didn't dare press her on that point just yet. If there was a baby, was she going to keep it? Was she taking it to Boston and away from him? He wasn't at all sure what his own feelings on the topic were, especially as he had only just discovered his feelings for her, but somehow he felt that he needed to let her know that she could rely on him, if only through a gesture. Carefully, but still feeling clumsy he placed his hand against her lower stomach, gently pressing down as he did so. The fact that he let him was all he could hope for.

He couldn't stop watching her. Of course, she didn't look any different, if maybe a little rattled, but that didn't stop him from looking for signs of something happening to her. She was dressed just as sharply as usual in a form-fitting black suit and heels, with not a single concession to her state of mind and physical exhaustion. Her fingers were wrapped tightly around a coffee cup that must have long since grown cold while she was following what Chief Johnson was saying. The FID trail had turned out to be a dead end, it seemed. While Flynn and Provenza had been chasing it, the rest of the team had worked the case from other angles, but had not turned up anything useful just yet. It was obvious from the undertones of what was being said that the team was about to reprioritize and put Sharon's case on the back burner until something new turned up. Of course, „something new" meant another threat or attack, so he wasn't really looking forward to that.

His focus was split. There was no way he would be able to concentrate on chasing down a lead or interrogating a suspect, so he was relieved that his status as security detail was affirmed. Still, he made sure to grumble about it just the right amount to ensure that people knew that he found it beneath him. When the meeting was over and people started filing out, he lingered and found that Chief Johnson was doing the same. He watched Sharon walk out and gestured toward her retreating back, but Chief Johnson held up a hand.

"She will be fine on her own for a second, Lieutenant Flynn. I don't think someone will jump out at her in the Murder Room."

He stuck his hands in his pockets and waited for her to address her issue. Chief Johnson did not look at all comfortable with the topic and he sighed inwardly. This couldn't be good. She crossed her arms and leaned against the table, fixing him with one of her relentless stares.

"How's the Captain doing? She seems spaced-out."

He shrugged. "She's not happy, that's for sure."

Chief Johnson weighed her head, signaling her understanding. "And you?" she asked. Andy looked up at her, surprised. Chief Johnson wasn't the type who tended to her team's emotional problems during an investigation if they didn't get in the way of obtaining a result.

"Me?" he asked. "What about me? I'm fine."

The Chief narrowed her eyes. "No need for that with me, Andy," she said, her voice a little softer now. "I do know the whole routine about her not being your girlfriend and you not wanting to be her security detail is bullshit."

She was right, of course, at least to some extent, but Andy did not enjoy being called out like this.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The Chief gave him one of her saccharine little smiles. "You, Andy, are practically glued to her. It is fairly obvious that this is pulling you apart. Provenza addressed you twice this morning and you didn't even notice."

Andy rolled his eyes. "There is some personal stuff I'm dealing with, okay? I don't want to talk about it."

Chief Johnson leaned forward and fixed him with a glare. He now understood why she was talking to him: He actually was obstructing her investigation. Chief Johnson could see through your crap and tell that there was something there and she wanted to know what it was.

"If this personal stuff is in any way related to my investigation, you need to tell me."

"It is not," he said quickly.

"Maybe I need to be more precise here, Lieutenant," the Chief said. "There are pictures of the two of you getting it on on a balcony. Therefore, anything and everything that is related to your intimate relationship is of interest to my case and, by extension, to me."

The would-be pregnancy did not factor into the investigation by any means, Andy decided. There was nothing that would change because of it, nothing to be gained from the Chief knowing about it. To the contrary, Sharon would kill him if he let it slip.

"Listen, this relationship thing is still under discussion, okay?" he sighed finally, hoping that she would accept half of the truth.

"Let me guess, you're the one arguing for the relationship status?" There was now a coy grin gracing the Chief's features. When he refused to answer and just folded his arms defiantly, she chuckled. "You have it bad, Andy Flynn. I can tell."

He growled, irritated that he was so transparent.

"Just don't let Provenza notice," she said, now clearly amused. "Send Raydor in to have a word with me and then take her home for the day. She looks like she is going to drop dead any second and frankly, so do you. Thank you."

"Take her home? It is barely early afternoon!" Andy protested.

"There are no leads and she is exhausted, which doesn't make her any easier to be around. There is no use in keeping her here," the Chief insisted. "Do I have to phrase this as a direct order or are you going to get out of my sight on your own volition?"

Andy turned and walked towards the door when she called after him again. "And Andy?" He looked at her and found a vigilant look on her face. "I expect you to tell me about the other thing you don't want to talk about soon."

So he was not off the hook. Without giving her an answer, he turned and walked into the Murder Room.

"Why on earth would you be googling that?" His bad luck was so spectacular that he could not believe it. Having to wait for Sharon to come out of Chief Johnson's office, he had decided to check up on the likelihood of a false positive in a pregnancy test and of course Provenza had to suddenly show up and look at his screen while he was browsing the first set of results. "YE GODS!" Provenza yelled and Flynn was ever so grateful that at least they were blessedly alone in the Murder Room as the others had chosen this moment to take a break, deli across the street and all.

"It was all I could do not to gauge my eyes out after having to see your stupid little affair in pictures, now you have to scare me like that? Are you trying to kill me, Flynn?"

Andy furtively looked over at the Chief's office. The door was still closed and the blinds mercifully drawn.

"Can you keep your voice down?" he hissed. "I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea. It is just a bet!"

"A bet?" Provenza echoed incredulously.

"Yeah," Flynn gestured helplessly if only to help his own imagination along. "My sister. You know how she is, doctor and all." Of course, it was the dumbest explanation he could have come up with, but Provenza seemed inclined to believe it, if only for his own sanity. With an extremely dramatic eye roll, the old lieutenant plopped himself down onto Andy's desk with no respect for personal boundaries as per usual.

"Thank God. Just imagine if this was actually what it looks like!"

Andy could feel his stomach turn slowly but gradually at this. Provenza was right. If this actually was what it looked like, they were in some serious trouble. But there was something else stirring inside him that he had no means of addressing just yet. The door opened and Sharon walked out, her expression deliberately neutral as it often was after dealing with Chief Johnson since those two just couldn't seem to get along. When her eyes met his through the Murder Room, she subtly lifted one corner of her mouth and his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. This was already a mess, he decided impulsively. Because he was head over heels with her and it was now plain for everyone to see. But the worst thing was that she was keeping her own cards very close to her chest and he couldn't tell for the life of him whether she was in as deep as he was.

He thought of the job offer in Boston looming and his heart sank. How was it even possible that he had fallen in love for the first time in forever and maybe more thoroughly than ever before and everything was going downhill so fast and so steeply?

She came to stand in front of his desk and he rose hurriedly, realizing too late that she was closer than he had expected. She didn't withdraw however, but looked up into his eyes instead.

"Chief asked me to take you home," he said gruffly.

"I know." She swallowed. "There is a stop I would like to make on the way if you don't mind."